My Dear One
by RachelDalloway
Summary: What if there just a tiny spark of life left in Jack when Rose let go? And what if that spark was noticed by a vampire? What are class divisions compared to living and dead divisions?
1. Chapter 1

"They're all dead," Emily said. "And what's more they're frozen. There isn't a decent meal within at least a hundred miles." Robert dismissed her words with a toss of his long dark hair. "Some of them are still alive." The few remaining sparks grew fainter with each passing second. He paused. "What is that?"

"What is what? Where are you going?" She couldn't believe her eyes. He had plunged into the frigid water. It wouldn't hurt him; in fact very little could hurt him anymore. But that didn't change her opinion of him for doing it or for bursting into the air a moment later with what appeared to be a frozen corpse in his arms. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" she demanded. "What are we going to do with that?"

"Isn't he beautiful?" Robert shifted Jack so he could get a better view of his face. "I'm sure he would be more attractive were he alive," Emily said. She crossed her arms over her chest. "How are you going to fly carrying that?"

"Oh, he's not dead. But he'll be even prettier when he is."

….

The first thing Jack was aware of was a deep gnawing in the pit of his stomach. It was worse than any hunger he had ever known, and there had been times when he had gone for days without eating. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Goddamn," he gasped. He drew in a shuddering breath.

"You don't need to do that anymore," a cold female voice said. Jack raised his head. A woman towered over him. Dark auburn hair framed her ivory face. Her lips were thin and just barely pink. Violet eyes met his blue ones. "Breathe," she said. "You don't need to breathe anymore."

"What are you talking about?" He looked around. Wherever they were it was dark save for the bare bulb above them, but much to his surprise he could see the crates stacked around them perfectly. He could even read the words stamped on them. His forehead wrinkled. "I was in the wa—Rose!" He leapt to his feet. "Where is she?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Emily said, sounding bored. "But considering where we found you I'm sure it's safe to say she's dead."

"She isn't dead." There was a note of conviction in his voice that surprised Emily. "How can you be so certain?" she asked. "You were seconds away from being dead yourself when Robert fished you out."

"I was under the water? So there wasn't a woman with me? Holding my hand?"

"It was just you. You were rather far down, actually. I'm surprised you weren't too far gone. I didn't expect you to survive the transition."

"What the hell are you talking about? Where am I?"

A door creaked open at the other end of the room. "There's your savior now," Emily said. "Let him explain everything."

…..

"That isn't possible."

"I assure you, it is," Robert said. "And it just happened." He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. His hair fell strategically across his forehead. "You've been given quite a gift, you know. Some people would sell their souls to be standing where you are. A few have, actually."

The gnawing in Jack's stomach had become unbearable. His hands began to shake. "I don't care," he said wearily. "I just want Rose." Robert moved toward him. "It seems to me that what you really want is a meal." He turned to Emily. "How long as he been awake?"

"He woke up about five minutes before you came in," she said. "He was more concerned with asking questions than eating."

"How interesting," Robert said. "I don't think I've ever seen such a young one ignore their appetite before." He studied Jack's face. "And I was right. Death did improve his looks. Not that they needed improving."

"I'm not dead!" Jack cried. "And I'm not a—a vampire either! You're both crazy! I'm getting out of here!" But when he turned to walk away he collapsed before he made it a step. "I guess he only had so much strength," Emily remarked drily. "Or perhaps he's missing his wife."

"She's not—she's—" Jack couldn't manage to get a full sentence out. The pain was excruciating. "What's wrong with me?" he choked out. "You're hungry," Emily said as she swept past him. "Did not feel the need to help him?" Robert asked, annoyed. "Or have you lost all semblance of being civilized?"

"You found the puppy. You feed it."

…...

Jack leaned against a crate and gagged. The pain was gone, but in its place was a disgust that was almost worse. "You can't do that anymore," Robert said. "You're only wasting time trying." Jack responded by gagging again, loudly this time. "Your puppy doesn't sound very pleased with himself," Emily said. "I don't think he's too grateful for what you've done for him." Robert's glare would have sent a human running, but Emily was unfazed.

"If that's what I have to do to stay alive, I'd rather be dead," Jack said. "How can you think you did a good thing by making me like this?"

"Don't you feel good?" Robert said. "Better than you ever have, in fact? Don't you feel strong, as though you could punch a hole in anything without even trying?" Jack didn't answer. "That's what I thought," he said. "And the older you get the better you'll feel."

They spent the next day sleeping in shipping crates. Jack tried to resist, but he only managed to stay awake an extra five minutes after dawn before falling into the same deathlike sleep as Robert and Emily. The moment the sun set his eyes flew open. He lay still and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear the conversation of the men in the next room, the squeaking of rats—disgust washed over him at that one—and the whirring of the ship's engines. Engines. He shot up. "We're on a ship."

He was out of the crate and across the room before either Robert or Emily could react. He was moving faster than he ever had, faster than he had ever known was possible. His fingers barely touched the door and it flew open. His feet didn't even seem to be touching the ground, and yet, somehow, he found himself on deck. The air that had been so cold the night before was barely noticeable now.

His eyesight had always been good, but as he scanned the forlorn crowd he saw things he had never been able to see before. He heard every word said. He heard every footstep, every heartbeat. Every person on deck had a smell, and he was able to tell each of them apart. But Rose's scent wasn't there. "Where can she be?" he said. "If this is the ship that picked up the survivors…." And then he found it. It wafted toward him like a gentle breeze. He breathed deeply. It was her. There was no doubt about it.

Her voice filled his ears._ "Jack! I need you!"_ He could see the terror rolling off her words. He didn't have to think about where to look for her. She shone like a beacon only he could see. The doors that led to the first class staterooms didn't make a sound as he passed through them.

He was close. He could feel it. He could feel _her_. H glided down the corridor, feet barely touching the thick carpet, her scent growing stronger with each step. All but a handful of the first class passengers were at dinner, but even if there had been someone in the corridor they wouldn't have been able to see him.

_Jack!_

He stopped. "She's in there." And she was frightened. And she was calling for him.

Jack didn't think; he couldn't have if he tried. His instinct to protect Rose was, like everything else, stronger than before. He knew the door was locked without trying it. It was made of solid oak, but all it took was a well placed kick to knock it from its hinges.

Rose screamed. Cal jumped back, letting go of her arms. She seized the opportunity and bolted toward the door. A rush of cold air stopped her. Her heart skipped a beat as an invisible hand knocked Cal into the wall. _Jack_. But it wasn't him; it couldn't be him. He was dead. She had let go of him, had watched him sink into the black ocean. _But I feel him here. _

Cal swung with both fists, desperate to hit whatever had attacked him, but all he managed to hit was air. "What the fuck?" he yelled.

"Rose." A cool hand touched her face. "Rose, look at me." She opened her eyes slowly—she couldn't remember closing them—and found herself staring into Jack's face. She froze, too shocked to even gasp. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. His blue eyes were filled with love and concern. "Rose," he said again, softly this time. He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. She shivered under his touch. "You're so cold," she whispered. She pressed her hands against his chest. It was like touching an icicle through a piece of thin flannel. "Jack, you're so cold."

He wrapped his arms around her. She sank against him. "Don't worry," he said, kissspiing her temple. "I'll be alright." Her eyes widened. "Jack—" But he didn't need a warning. With one arm still around Rose he knocked Cal back, sending him flying across the room.

Dazed, Cal rubbed his head. A bump was forming just above the back of his neck at the base of his spine. He took a shaky step forward. A mix of confusion and rage flowed through him. _What the fuck just happened? He can't be that strong, not a skinny rat like him._ He raised his foot to take another step and stopped, frozen by a deep growl that could only have come from Jack.

**AN: Review please! I really hope this story is enjoyed. I had this idea a long time ago, but I never thought about writing it until JLuckyJ resurrected my love of vampires. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you all for reviewing! I'm sorry this took so long. I haven't had access to the Internet since last Tuesday. **

Jack pressed Rose against him. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "Jack, was that—" He kissed her. "You?" she finished lamely. She looked up into his eyes. All the warmth his body lacked seemed to be concentrated there. "Did I scare you?" he asked softly. He glanced over her head at Cal. "You're not the one that should be scared," he added, a growl creeping into his voice.

"Reverting to your animal nature?" Cal sneered. "Or should I say your _true_ nature?" Jack's lips curled up slightly. "Whatsa matter?" he taunted. "Not scared are ya?" Cal's eyes narrowed. "Don't flatter yourself Dawson. It would take far more than the squeaking of a rat like you to frighten me." He took a step forward, his gaze moving to Rose. "And _you_—" That was all he managed to get out. The next thing he knew he was flying backwards through the air. He slammed into the wall with a loud _thwump. _Pain shot through his back. Jack's forearm pressed against his throat. He stared, shocked, into Jack's face. "Scared now?" Jack said. Cal gasped for air. The pressure on his throat increased. "I didn't get that," Jack said. "But I'm assuming it was a yes." Cal nodded weakly. His heart pounded. He clenched his fists; his fingers seemed to be colder than usual. Panic washed over him. _He's going to kill me. The crazy son of a bitch is going to strangle me. _"I'm not going to kill you," Jack said calmly. "But I will if I ever see you again. Do you understand?" Somehow Cal managed to nod. "And you know I can do it too."

Cal nearly tripped over his own feet running from the room. He stumbled out the door, massaging his bruised throat as he went. Rose couldn't believe her eyes. Cal running away? It wasn't possible. She let out a breath as Jack's arms curled around her. "You're the one trembling now," he said into her hair. "You're cold," she said. She twisted around so she was facing him. "What just happened? How did you move like that? And how are you—" The words caught in her throat. _Alive, _she thought, blinking back tears. _How are you alive?_

He took her face in his hands. "Don't cry," he whispered. He lightly rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "I wouldn'tve hurt you. I would never hurt you." She smiled, soothed by his touch. "I know you wouldn't."

"I love you." He leaned in and kissed her. His lips were just as cold as the rest of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His hands moved down to her waist. "Why aren't you getting any warmer?" she said. "I don't understand." She pulled back. "Jack, are you alright?"

He considered her question. The night before he had been awakened by the worst hunger he had ever known. He had been forced to drink the blood of a rat. He had spent the day in a sleep that was deeper than any he had ever experienced. But he was also stronger than he had ever thought possible. He hadn't needed to crush Cal's windpipe to know he could. _And it would've been easy. _All he would have had to do was press down a little more. It was a strangely thrilling thought.

"I—"

"Just where I said we would find him." Emily's tone was brisk yet bored. She and Robert stood in the doorway. She was leaning on the doorframe, hands clasped at her waist. "And he appears to have found that wife of his."

"Thank you for the report, Emily," Robert said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I would have been unable to tell what I was looking at if it weren't for your helpfulness." She gave an exaggerated bow. "I live to be of service." Robert ignored her. His feet made no sound as he walked toward Jack and Rose. He moved quickly and easily like a cat. Rose glared at him; his smile was exactly like Cal's. "Jack, who are they?" she asked quietly. "They don't matter," he said. He caught Robert's eye. "And they won't hurt you."

Robert clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Who said anything about hurting anyone? Especially a creature as lovely as this one. Oh no, I would never do that." His tone became dreamy. "What a waste that would be." Emily snorted loudly. "I never said anything about not hurting _you_," he snapped. His voice softened. "You know you really shouldn't be going out by yourself," he said, shifting his gaze to Jack. "There are too many things you don't know yet."

"I know everything I need to know," Jack said. Robert raised an eyebrow. "Do you know all the things that will kill you? Do you know how to feed without leaving a trail of bodies?" Rose paled. She tightened her arms around Jack. He could hear her heart pounding. Her body was tense, her muscles taut as though she were preparing to run. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm with you," he whispered. "This isn't how I planned it, but I'm here."

"Aren't they adorable?" Robert said. "I could just eat her up," Emily said drily. "Like it or not," Robert said to Jack. "You're only alive because of me."

"Do I not get any credit?" Emily said. "It was _my_ idea to—"

"It wasn't your idea to follow that spark of life into the water," Robert said smoothly. "If you'd had your way Jack here would have been left to finish freezing to death."

"I didn't want a puppy. They take entirely too much work. I don't have time to teach one how to survive, and frankly their constant crying is an annoyance I can do without."

"Aren't you sweet," Robert said with a soft chuckle. "I'm not sweet," Emily said. "I'm realistic, which is more than I can say for you these days. It seems all it takes is a pretty face to turn your head completely."

"Sweet Emily, that is all it has ever taken." He turned his attention back to Jack. "I'm not asking for fealty though you _do_ owe me. I—"

"I never asked you for anything!" Jack snapped. "I wasn't even conscious when you—when you—" His face wrinkled in disgust. "When you did whatever it was you did," he said. "Whatever it was that made me this way."

"The word you're searching for is 'alive'," Robert said. "And your new state is superior to your old, is it not? I don't imagine you could have made it halfway across a ship and into the arms of this lovely girl in under two minutes before, could you? You couldn't have smelled her from across the ship." He lowered his voice. "You couldn't have sensed her. And you did, didn't you? She rang in your head like a bell. And you couldn't have sent that strapping young man running the way you did—at least, not so easily."

"What are you talking about?" Rose demanded. She forced her voice to remain steady. "Who are you?" Jack smiled. He could tell by the sound of her heartbeat alone that she was afraid, but he wouldn't have been able to tell by looking at her. Her chin was up, and she was staring down her nose at Robert with the perfect society woman glare.

Robert threw his head back and laughed. "Isn't she fiery?" he said, clapping his hands. "Emily, don't you think so?" Emily rolled her eyes. "Downright intimidating." Robert frowned. "Not jealous are you?"

"Jealous? Of what?" she scoffed.

"You—" Robert paused. When he spoke again it was to Rose. "You have every right to ask that," he said. "But now is not the time for an explanation—from me, at least."

"What makes you so sure you'll ever see me again?" Rose said. "Perhaps I have a touch of second sight," Robert said. "Or perhaps it's just that I know Jack will need my help at first if he is to survive. But I can tell just by looking at your face you'd rather eat glass than hear my voice for another moment, and I'm sure there are many questions you'd like to be asking Jack." He gave a slight bow and snapped his fingers. "I'm not a dog," Emily said. "I know we're leaving without you doing that."

Robert stopped in the doorway. Over his shoulder he said, "We'll be expecting you before dawn. I trust you have an idea of what will happen if you don't come." Jack didn't respond. "I thought so," Robert said. And with that he was gone.

"You broke the door," Rose said, sounding slightly dazed. "Sorry," Jack said. "I was trying to get in here the fastest way I could." She stepped out of his arms. "It's alright. I'm just glad you're here—glad you came." Her back was to him. "I feel as though the entire world is spinning and I'm the only one standing still," she said. "It's all rushing by, and I can't make it stop. I don't even understand what I'm seeing." Jack laid a hand on her shoulder. She picked it up and pressed it against her cheek. "Make the world stop spinning, Jack. Please."

He hugged her from behind with his free arm. "Is there somewhere else we can go?" he asked. She nodded. "Through that door."

They lay curled up in each other's arms on the bed. Jack closed his eyes. The sound of Rose's heart was the most soothing thing he had ever heard. The scent of her filled his nostrils. He pressed his face into her neck and forced himself to breathe. He could smell her easily without trying, but he liked breathing her in. She ran her fingers through his hair. Her mind hummed with unasked questions. Nothing that had happened made sense. Even Jack being alive didn't make sense. She had let go. She had watched his lifeless body sink into the ocean. Hadn't she? _I shook him. I called to him. I blew that damn whistle for five minutes. If that didn't wake him up, what could have? _She shivered at the memory of the icy water. Jack lifted his head. "You cold?"

"No," she said, snuggling closer to him. "But you are." She ran a hand over his face. "Jack, are you all right?" He lifted her up and pulled the blankets down. "I'm fine," he said. "Really, I am." He pulled the blankets over them. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down so he was lying on top of her once more. "Trying to tell me something?" he asked with a grin. He brushed his lips across hers. "Rose, I need to tell you—" But she kissed him before he could finish. "I don't care about any of it right now," she whispered. She pressed her hand against the back of his neck. "Make the world stop spinning, Jack."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was gone when Rose woke up. The blankets were wrapped tightly around her as if he had been trying to recreate the way his arms felt. She lay still for a moment, her face buried in the pillow; she could just barely smell his hair. "Jack," she murmured. Tears filled her eyes. He was supposed to be with her. He was supposed to be curled up next to her, safe and warm. "Where did you go?" An image of Robert and Emily flashed before her eyes. "He's with them." Robert's warning echoed in her ears. "Please be okay, Jack."

She rolled over. She threw her arm across the bed and was surprised to hear a crinkling sound. It was a drawing of her sleeping. _I'll be back tonight,_ Jack had written at the bottom. Next to that he had written the drawing's title, "My Dear One". A smile spread across her face. "Where did he get the paper and pencils?" she wondered.

There were a handful of empty first class staterooms, and Rose, as part of Cal's party, had been given use of one of them. She loathed the idea of taking anything else from him, even if it was by proxy, but she didn't have anywhere else to go. The temperature showed no signs of rising, and Cal had taken his coat back the moment he got his hands on her. All she had was the thin dress she had put on the night of the sinking. She doubted Cal would come anywhere near her after his encounter his Jack, but she didn't want to risk seeing her mother so she spent the day locked in the bedroom. Fortunately, it was already early afternoon when she woke up.

"Rose."

She jumped up. "Jack?" She hurried to the door. "Jack!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. "Miss me?" he said. He kissed her hair. "I missed you," she said. Her stomach growled loudly. He frowned. "Didn't you eat today?"

"No," she admitted.

"Rose—"

"I didn't want to go out," she said. "I didn't want to run into anyone." He didn't have to ask who "anyone" was. "Well, we're getting you somethin to eat," he said, taking her hand. "C'mon."

….

The dining room was almost empty when they arrived. Rose had suggested they go down to third class, but Jack pointed out that technically she was listed as a first class passenger. "It would probably be easier for you to get food up here," he explained. She seemed uncertain. "I'll be with you," he said, tightening his grip on her hand. She nodded slowly. "Alright."

They sat down at a small table in the corner. A few people gave them curious looks, but no-one said anything. They didn't talk while Rose ate. She devoured her dinner as quickly as a well brought up girl could, and Jack was content to just watch her. He had thought her movements were graceful before but seeing them through a vampire's eyes gave them a new beauty. "Feel better?" he asked when she had swallowed the last bite. She leaned back in her hair, a lazy smile on her face. "I've never been that hungry," she said. Her expression became serious. "Where did you go this morning?"

Jack looked at his hands. "I had to go where I could sleep," he said. Rose tilted her head, confused. "You could have slept with me," she said "I had to be away from the sun," he said slowly. "I'm not too sure what'll happen if I don't stay out of the sun, but I know it won't be good. I can't stay awake during the day though. I tried yesterday, and I only made it a few minutes. It was like I fell into this deep sleep I couldn't get out of. I don't think I even moved until the sun set and I woke up."

"And you found me."

He nodded. His blue eyes looked straight into her green ones. "And I found you." She shivered. "You cold?" he asked, moving to stand up. "I'm fine," she said quickly. She reached out and took his hand. "Tell me the rest. Please?" He sighed. Pushing his hair back out of his face he said, "I'm not sure you'll believe it. I don't even know if I do."

"Trust me, Jack."

…

"And that's it," he said. "That's everything he told me and everything I remember." Rose's head spun. "You—you're a….A _vampire_?" She shook her head quickly. "No, that isn't possible. Such things aren't real. There must be some other explanation; there must be something else that can explain everything that's happened to you."

"I don't want to believe it either," he said. "Really I don't, but I don't know what else to believe. I don't know what could've done this to me. I shouldn't be alive." She flinched. "I'm sorry," he said. "No, it's alright," she said. "You shouldn't be. I was sure…" She took a deep breath as the image of Jack's still body sinking into the black water flashed before her eyes. "I was sure you were dead," she said. "I would never have let you go if I'd thought you were alive." Rose's face was pale, her eyes heavy and sad. Jack's hands twitched; the urge to take her in his arms was almost irresistible. "Wanna go?" he said softly. She nodded.

The next thing she knew they were back in her stateroom. The bedroom door was locked and she was curled up in Jack's arms. "I love you," she whispered, pressing her face into his chest. "I don't care if….I don't care about anything but staying with you." He hugged her tighter. "You're getting off this ship with me. I love you, Rose."

The _Carpathia _docked in New York two days later. The sun was just coming up when Rose walked onto the dock. "I got off alone," she murmured to herself. Jack was somewhere in the cargo hold sleeping in a crate along with Robert and Emily. Robert had altered some of the ship's paperwork so the crates they were in would be delivered to the hotel he had instructed Rose to go to. "And be sure you don't let anyone get curious," he had said, handing her a wad of wrinkled money. "I won't," she replied. She tucked the money into the bodice of her dress.

It was a nice hotel, clean and respectable; what her mother would have called, with a sniff, "middle class." But Rose liked it just fine. Jack's crate was already in her room when she got there. She immediately drew the curtains. If the sunlight was going to pierce the wood it would have during the journey from the ship, but she felt better with the curtains closed all the same.

It felt like years until the day ended. She did everything she could think of to make the time pass—take a bath, nap, play word games with herself—but nothing helped. Finally the sun began to set. As soon as it dropped out of sight completely she heard a rustling sound coming from the crate. "Jack," she whispered. A moment later the lid creaked open. Jack sat up. His eyes lit up when he saw her. "Rose," he said. "So it all worked out then?"

"I think so. I did everything Robert told me to do."

"I wonder where he is," Jack said, climbing out of the crate. "I don't care," she said. "In fact I don't care for _him_." He sat down next to her on the bed. "I know you don't," he said. "I don't blame you. I don't like him that much either." He leaned forward and kissed her. "I just wanna make sure he won't be bothering us."

…

The days took on a pattern. The three of them continued to stay in the hotel. Rose attended to any necessities that could only be taken care of during the day. Robert paid for everything. Rose wanted to ask where he got his money, but she was certain he wouldn't tell her. And part of her didn't want to know. She wasn't afraid of him, but after seeing him come in one night with his fangs still bared and blood on his shirt collar she was wary of him. _He could kill me,_ she thought. _It would be easy for him._

Jack spent every night with her except for the few hours he spent hunting. He didn't kill the humans he fed off of. He almost did at first, but after a few weeks he figured out how to drink just enough and move on to another person. "Does that bother you?" he had asked on their second night in the hotel. "I don't know how I feel about it," Rose said. "I don't want you to kill anyone."

"I won't. I promise."

She sighed. "I cannot believe we're discussing this. How did this happen?" He put an arm around her. "I don't know, but if this is the only way I can be with you, well, I'll take it."

"I will too."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: There is some slightly M content in this one. **

"I like this."

Jack smiled into her neck. "I like this too." He closed his eyes and concentrated all of his energy on Rose. Heat radiated from her body; being near her was like basking in the warmth of a fire. "Sometimes I think we could stay like this forever," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "You wouldn't want to ever go outside?" he asked. "You had fun when we went out last night." She smiled, remembering the smoke filled bar he had taken her to. It had been crowded and noisy with a band that played some kind of Eastern European music, though she never found out exactly what kind. "I did enjoy that," she said. "Perhaps we should go sometimes."

"Dancing again?"

"How did you know?"

"You seem to like it."

"I didn't always like it," she said. "Before, when I danced at cotillions and balls, I didn't like it very much at all. The music was always so slow, so polite. It didn't feel like I was dancing so much as walking slowly in a circle. I'm not sure if that isn't what I've been doing my whole life. I woke up every morning and did the same thing just in a different dress. Every night I had dinner with the same crowd of people in yet another dress. The only things that ever changed were my clothes."

"You don't have to live like that anymore," he said. "You can do anything you want. I'll take you anywhere in the world or I'll spend the next twenty years just lying here with you."

"How would we go?" she asked. "With your…condition."

"We can use the crate for traveling during the day, explore together at night. We'll sit in bars and watch all the people. I'll do all my drawings at night." His voice filled with excitement. "We'll ride those horses in the moonlight." Rose was surprised to hear herself say, "When can we go?"

"Soon as we've got enough money to get us out of New York. I've been trying to find a night job."

"You didn't tell me that."

"I was gonna wait until I found one, but now I'm not sure I ever will."

"I can work during the day," she said. "There must be something I can do. I can't be entirely useless."

"You're not useless. Don't you ever think that."

"Well, when I think about all the practical things I was never taught how to do it makes me feel a bit useless."

"You can learn, if you want to. And you can get a job too if you want, but I'm getting one too. You shouldn't have to be the only one working."

"I'm helping work toward creating our life together," she said. "_Our_ life."

….

Rose found a job at the public library. She worked from the late morning through the early evening, a schedule that blended perfectly with Jack's. A few days later he found a job tending bar. At first the owner hadn't wanted to hire him. He thought Jack was too young and too skinny to handle what went on there, but after Jack effortlessly tossed two brawling men out into the street he reconsidered. Now they only had brief snatches of time together in the few hours after Jack finished work and before the sun came up. The bar was closed on Sundays, which quickly became their favorite day of the week. They spent Sunday nights lying in bed together talking or sometimes just silently being together.

Rose sighed happily. He was lukewarm and she knew that was mostly because she was holding him so tightly, but she didn't care. For a moment she could pretend nothing had changed; _he_ hadn't changed. _He's still Jack,_ she chided herself. As if he sensed her thoughts he raised his head and kissed her jaw. "I'll have to go soon," he said softly. She pressed her forehead to his. "No," she said.

"Rose—"

"Dawn isn't for almost four hours. You don't need to leave yet."

He sighed. "I still have to eat, and that can take awhile," he said. She tilted her head up and kissed him. "Not yet," she whispered into his mouth. "Don't leave me yet." There was a voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop kissing her, to untangle himself and go search for that night's meal, but he ignored it. He lifted her up so he was holding her body in his hands. She was so light it took no effort, or maybe, as he suspected, he had just become that strong.

She pressed her hands into his back and kissed him harder. She drew her legs up so her knees were against his hips. With a low moan he settled into the newly created space. A jolt of desire shot through her as a new firmness pressed against her. Through his shirt she could feel his skin warming up ever so slightly. "Rose," he said, making a half hearted attempt to pull away, "I have to—"

"No, you don't."

"I do. I can't—" Her finger against his lips silenced him. "You can do that here," she said. It took a full minute for the implication of her words to sink in. "I can't do that," he said, shaking his head. She smiled. "Why not? If not with me then with whom? Someone you've never met and whom you'll never see again?" She caressed his cheek. "Wouldn't you rather have me?"

If his heart still beat it would have been bursting out of his chest. Suddenly he was uncomfortable aware of the sound of Rose's blood pumping through her veins. Her creamy skin glowed in the moonlight. It would be so easy to bend down and sink his teeth into her neck, so easy to— _No! _"I can't do that," he said. "Not to you."

"Would it hurt me?"

"Not unless I wanted it to."

"Does it hurt the people you drink from?"

"No. I think some of 'em like it, but that doesn't mean it would be right to—with you—"

"Why wouldn't it be right? You love me," she said. He nodded. "This is just one more thing for us to share," she said, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Rose, I—" The words stuck in his throat. _I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I don't want to scare you. _She traced his lips with her fingertip. "Please Jack."

The voice telling him to stop grew weaker and weaker as he kissed her until finally it was gone completely. Her skin was hot; he could feel it through her dress. Eagerly he undid the buttons. She grabbed his shirt and with trembling hands began to undress him. "You nervous?" he whispered.

"No." She turned her head to give him easier access to her neck. He brushed his lips across her skin. She let out a soft sigh and tightened her legs around him. He made a trail of kisses across her neck and down her breasts. Her breathing quickened. "Jack," she whispered. He gently straightened her legs. "Here," he said, placing his hand on her inner thigh. She nodded. She held her breath as his mouth moved across her thigh. His hair was soft between her fingers. His skin was warm against hers. He growled softly and nipped at her between kisses.

And then he bit her.

Suddenly she was flying through the air with only Jack to hold onto. He was her anchor; he would keep her from disappearing into the blackness. He was right. It didn't hurt at all. In fact it felt wonderful. She dug her nails into the back of his neck. He groaned and sped up the circles he was making around her swollen nub with his thumb. Her legs twitched. "Jack." Her breaths were coming in gasps. "Jack." His name was a mantra or perhaps an incantation that she couldn't stop repeating.

Jack never wanted to stop drinking from her. He had never tasted anything like her blood. It was delicately sweet, light and airy, almost like eating a rose petal. Fearing he would lose control of himself he pulled away leaving two tiny holes glistening with blood and spit. Rose whimpered softly. She arched her back, pressing herself further into his hand. "I'm not finished," he said. He kissed the bite marks. "Rose." It was more moan than word. Stars flashed before her eyes when he replaced his hand with his tongue.

…..

"It isn't like that for the others, is it?" Rose joked. Her arm rested lightly on Jack's chest. Her head was nestled in the space between his arm and shoulder. "It's not," he said, kissing her forehead. "Just for you."

"It was…I don't think words can describe it. When we make love it's…" Her cheeks reddened as she searched for the right words. "Are you blushing?" he teased. "What can you be blushing about?" She buried her face in his chest. "I don't know. I shouldn't be. It's stupid."

"No, it isn't. You didn't talk about stuff like this before."

"I would never have even dreamed of doing anything like this before. Not even without the biting. In fact, most of my dreams were nightmares." She shuddered. "I dreaded the day when I wouldn't be able to tell him to stop touching me." Jack's arm tightened around her. "I'd never do anything you didn't want me to. And I'd never be mad if you said no."

"You don't have to tell me that." She smiled up at him. "I trust you." When she woke up the next day there was a drawing of the two of them on his pillow. Above her face it said "My Dear One."


	5. Chapter 5

Rose glanced uneasily at the clock. _11:15._ The library had only been closed for fifteen minutes and yet it felt like she had been alone for hours. She knew she shouldn't have stayed late. Jack would be leaving the bar at any moment; he had gotten lucky and been given only a half shift that night. She sighed and dropped the stack of books she was carrying onto a table. They would keep until the next day. One of the morning librarians could handle checking them back in. Time with Jack was more important. She pushed in chairs as she made her way toward the front of the library. Most of the lights were off giving the large room an eerie glow. Rose quickened her pace. _They're only books_, she chided herself. _Books can't hurt you. _Her heart skipped a beat as a cold hand brushed her arm. Without stopping to think she grabbed the nearest book and spun around. She didn't know what she hit, but she knew she hit it. **Hard.**

Jack staggered back yelping in surprise and pain. Rose drew her arm back and prepared to swing the book again. "Don't come any closer!" she cried. "I mean it! I—Jack?" The book fell from her hand and landed with a _thump_. "Jack, I'm sorry!" She reached for him. "I didn't know it was you! I—" He cut her off with a kiss. "It's alright," he said. "You were just takin care of yourself." He lightly caressed her cheek. "That was a helluva hit, Dear One." She couldn't help but smile. "You think a first class girl can't hit?"

He cracked a grin. "I didn't think that was the sort of thing they taught you in finishing school. I mean, if they left out spitting and the proper way to ride…"

"I'll have you know that side saddle _is_ the proper way for a lady to ride," she said taking on a mock haughty tone. "And as for this spitting it is a most unsuitable occupation for any woman—and especially for a lady."

"Oh." He nodded thoughtfully. "I'll hafta remember that." She laughed. "What are you doing here? Weren't we supposed to meet—"

"I had this feeling that you wouldn't be there," Jack explained. "And hey, I was right."

"You didn't think it would be a good idea to announce your presence? I am, after all, a woman alone at night."

"I guess you can't really hear me walk, can you?" he said sheepishly. "I guess I'm not as used to being like this as I thought." He frowned. Would he ever be used to it? Did he want to be? _I didn't ask for this. _Robert talked about his "condition" as he and Rose had taken to calling it as though it were a gift. He talked as though Jack should be grateful for what he had done. Emily never missed an opportunity to tell him how grateful he should be or how unworthy he was of the blessing he had received. "You would be dead now if it weren't for us," she hissed, her eyes narrowed. "The least you could do is act as though you wouldn't prefer to be a frozen corpse at the bottom of the ocean."

Jack didn't answer; he never did. There was no reason to. He would never be able to explain that he was only grateful for the chance to be with Rose. He didn't care about immortality or the strength that came with being a vampire. He didn't care about his heightened senses. He didn't care about all the other talents and tricks Robert assured him he would eventually learn. What did all of that matter when compared to what he had lost?

Rose's hand on his brought him back to the present. "Haven't lost everything," he murmured. "What?" He shook his head. "Nothing." He laced his fingers through hers. "Wanna go or do you need to stay?"

"Oh, I don't need to stay. I should have left already. I was in the back shelving at closing time, and I wanted to finish before I left." She smiled faintly. "And then there were the misplaced books to organize. But that's dull. How has your night gone?"

"Well, it was going alright until I made the mistake of sneaking up on this really beautiful girl," he said. She raised an eyebrow. "And what happened? I hope she didn't react too strongly." He rubbed his thumb across her hand. "It wasn't too bad," he said. "She cracked me over the head with—" He glanced at the book on the floor. "—A leather bound edition of the _Complete Works of the Bronte Sisters_ but it only hurt for a second," he said with a shrug. "I'm sure she's very sorry for hitting you," Rose said. "In fact, I know she is." He put his free hand on the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her. "No reason to be sorry."

… 

"So, I think we'll be able to leave soon," Jack said. Rose's eyes lit up. "We will?" she said. He nodded. "Yep. I think we've about got enough money to keep us going for awhile so why not?" There was an urgent note in his nonchalant tone. It would have been too late had they left the day before though neither of them had ever actually said that. Rose hated the sight of Robert and Emily. Just the mention of their names put her on edge. Robert had repeatedly assured her he had no intentions of harming her, but she still didn't trust him. And she was sure Emily would like nothing better than to kill her—and probably Jack too. Rose threw herself into Jack's arms. "How soon can we go?" she asked.

"Not for another week or two at least," he said. "But we'll be gone by this time next month." He cradled her face in his hands. "It'll be just us, heading out for the horizon like we said." He grinned ruefully. "It won't be a sunny horizon, but…."

"Better a moonlit one than none at all," Rose said. He kissed her forehead. "Right."

…..

Rose didn't bother to look up when she heard the door open. It was around the time Jack usually came in if he wasn't hunting for that night's meal. She finished wringing out her dress and hung it from the towel rack in the bathroom. She did all their laundry by hand in the bathtub. It had been difficult at first, but after a few weeks she fell into a rhythm. Scrub, rinse, scrub, wring, rinse, scrub, wring. Jack's shirts always took the longest. No matter how careful he was when he drank there was always at least one bloodstain somewhere. Except for the times he drank from her.

"You're just more careful with me," she had teased the last time. "You could do this with the others." His blue eyes were dark. "I don't want to do this with the others," he said. She shivered at the memory.

"How domestic," Robert said. Rose jumped. She grabbed the water glass from the sink and spun around. "Surely you aren't thinking of hitting me with that?" Robert said. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "How very rude—and for a lady such as yourself—" He shook his head. "What would your mother think?"

"My mother thinks I'm dead." She set down the glass but kept it within reach. "What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Jack will be here any moment. If you want to talk to him you're quite welcome to wait outside."

"You know, I think I'm beginning to see why he's so enamored with you," Robert said. His eyes moved over her. "Not easily cowed, are you?" He took a step forward. She reached for the water glass. "Oh, don't be silly," he said impatiently. "If I wanted to hurt you I already would have. I could kill you before you could finish blinking if I felt like it."

Rose wished she didn't believe him. "What do you want?" she asked with as much haughtiness as she could muster. "Sure you didn't come up here to impress me with tales of your physical prowess."

"You're right. I didn't," he said suddenly brisk. "I came to ask you about your imminent departure."

"What about it?"

"Do you really think it's a good idea?"

"Of course we do. We know exactly what we're going to do. We—"

"Do you really think Jack's ready to be on his own?"

Rose's eyes hardened. "This is about you, isn't it? You want to keep him here. You don't want him going where you can't get to him. You don't want him with _me._"

"My girl, I don't think even I could keep him from you. His attachment to you is quite extraordinary. I can only imagine you have a few, shall we say, uncommon talents."

In spite of herself Rose blushed a deep scarlet. "How dare you say such a thing!" she hissed. "How dare you speak to me as though—"

"What? As though you aren't a young woman living and sleeping with a man who isn't your husband? A man you've known all of two months?" Rose avoided Robert's eyes. "A man whose child you just happen to be carrying." Somehow she managed to keep her face blank. "He doesn't know that, does he?" Robert went on. "He has no idea the effect of his actions as a human." He let out a short, dry laugh. "It's poetic, really."

"Get out," Rose said quietly.

"Don't tell me the truth offends you."

She picked up the water glass. "Go."

When he was gone she sank to her knees, glass still in hand. "How does he know? He can't see it …or can he? But there isn't anything to see." She pressed a hand to her stomach. "Not yet."

"Rose?" Jack called. She was on her feet when he came in. "Hey," he said, grinning. "Whatcha doin?"

"Just finishing the laundry," she said. It was taking all her energy to keep her voice from shaking. "How was work?" He eyed her curiously. "Boring. A buncha guys got drunk, got in a fight, and I threw them out." She nodded quickly. "Really? How interesting." She grabbed the dress off the towel rack. "Oh, it's still wet," she said absently. Jack took the dress from her hands and hung it back up. "Rose, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." She moved to step past him. "I'm fine." He stopped her. "You're not." He cupped her cheek. "Tell me what's wrong. Did something happen while I was gone? Was it one of them?" She sighed heavily. "I need to tell you something."


	6. Chapter 6

Rose ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I don't know how to say this," she said. She wished she had pockets so she would have somewhere to put her hands besides her hair. She paced the length of the room slowly, as if it would somehow stop her from having to keep speaking. Jack watched her from the bed. "What's wrong?" he asked. She looked at her feet and kept pacing. "Rose Petal, what is it?" There was a hint of insistence in his tone. "It—" She sighed. "I should've said something to you before now. I shouldn't have waited. I don't even know what I was waiting for. I—I suppose I wanted to be sure, but…" She shook her head. "Oh, I don't know."

Jack put his hands on her shoulders. "Stand still for a sec," he said gently. "Whatever it is, just tell me. You can do that." Her voice shook slightly. "Jack, I'm pregnant." It took him three tries to get a word out. "What?" he said, his voice thick with disbelief. "You're—"

"Knock, knock!" Emily sang happily as she burst through the door. Her smile dimmed but didn't disappear entirely. "Am I interrupting?" she asked. "Oh, how rude of me. I'm so sorry." But she didn't sound sorry at all. Nor did she make a move to leave. "Whatever you want can wait," Jack said. He didn't even bother to look at her. "It—" she began. "I don't care," he said. "It can wait." She scowled at the back of his head for a moment before stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

Rose avoided Jack's eyes. She kept her head down studying his hands for answers she knew weren't there. "Look at me," he said softly. He cupped her jaw and lifted her head. "Say that again?" Her throat hurt from the lump that had formed in it. "I'm pregnant," she said. For an unbearably long moment he didn't speak. "I'm guessing this happened before my—" His voice hardened. "—_Condition_ began." She nodded. "I would think so. You can't—what I mean is—" He shook his head. "I can't. I'm not…" _Alive. That's the world you want. _

_I'm alive. I'm standing here. _

_You're animated. _Jack pulled Rose closer. He could hear her heart beating, smell her skin, feel the blood moving through her veins. She was warm to the touch. _**She's**__ alive. You're not. You're something else completely. _He lightly ran his thumb across her bottom lip. She watched him silently. _What is he thinking?_ she wondered. He hadn't gotten angry, at least not that she could see, or left so it couldn't be too bad. Could it? "You were afraid to tell me," he said. "You shouldn'tve been. Did you think I wouldn't be happy? That I wouldn't want it?"

"Both, I guess," she admitted. "With the way things are now it didn't seem like the sort of thing that would be welcome news."

"It does make things harder," he said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean it isn't a good thing." He bent down so their foreheads were touching. "I love you. I hate what's happened to me, but I love you. If this is the only way I can be with you, I'll take it." He kissed her. "And we did get to make a baby after all."

She smiled. Relief washed over her; the lump in her throat dissolved. "You're right," she said. "It isn't perfect, but we'll make it work." He hugged her to him. "We will," he said into her hair. "We'll still have our life. I promise."

No sooner did Rose lie down than she fell asleep. She pressed her face against Jack's chest and held him as tightly as she could. She didn't even notice his lack of a heartbeat; it was enough to have him close. He stroked her hair and listened to the sound of her breathing. _You don't breathe anymore_, a nagging voice in the back of his mind said. _Your heart doesn't beat anymore._

_That doesn't matter. _

_You really believe that? You think in a few years this "condition" of yours won't matter? _He ignored the voice. _It won't go away. This is your life now. She'll get older. She'll change. She'll die. You won't. How do you think she's gonna feel when you're 20 and she's 40? When she's old and dying and you're still the same as you are now? _

Jack's stomach twisted. Now there was a thought that hadn't occurred to him. _Rose won't live forever. _It settled in his stomach like a stone. What would he do without her? What would be the point? Had he remained human and she died it would be a different story, but the thought of continuing to exist as…_A vampire. You can say it. You drink blood to stay alive. Don't be so squeamish about a word. You're a vampire, and eventually you'll be alone. Unless…_

"No. I can't do that to her. She deserves a life, a real one."

_But she can't have that with you. _

"She can."

_Until watching you stay the same age year after year becomes too much for her. _

Jack closed his eyes. For the first time he wished he were dead. He wished Robert had never noticed the tiny spark of life left in him. It would be better for Rose, for their child, if he had just died forever that night. She would be able to go on. "Not be trapped in this in-between place." He sighed. Leaving her wasn't an option. It had never been an option. And perhaps that was why Robert had noticed him out of all the other dying people. Perhaps that was why he had been fished out of the icy water and saved. "I couldn't leave her." He kissed the top of her head. She smiled and murmured his name. "I couldn't go."

But could he stay? "I have to. After everything that's happened…we have a baby together…I can't just walk away from her. It doesn't matter about the future, not right now. We'll figure somethin out. It'll work."

Rose was at the library when he woke up the next night. He slowly climbed out of the crate. It was later than usual. His body felt heavy in a way it hadn't since the change. It was as if he hadn't gone to sleep at all. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror. Everything looked alright on the outside. He was just about to head out the door when Robert appeared. "I don't mean to keep you," he said smoothly. "But I'm afraid I do need to speak with you."

Jack's face was a calm mask. "What do you want?"

"Well, I wanted to talk about your leaving. Do you think you should? You aren't very old, you know."

"I'll be fine." Jack looked him straight in the eyes. "Why are you so interested?"

"Jack, don't sound so suspicious," Robert said in a gently scolding tone. "I only have your well-being in mind. I don't want to see you doing something you're not ready for. Or," he added, frowning, "something you're being pushed into."

"I don't know what you could mean." Jack moved to step past him. Robert blocked his exit. "I just mean that sometimes the people we care for have a way of getting us to do things that aren't always in our best interests. I know how attached you are to Rose, but she may not be right for you."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say?" There was just a hint of anger in his voice. Robert assumed his best apologetic face. "Only that it's working now, but perhaps before too long it won't be. Have you thought about the future at all? You can't have a child with—" His eyes widened. "You didn't know that, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Jack said coldly. "And I don't know what business it is of yours. What we do with our lives is up to us. You may have made me this way, but I didn't ask for it. I don't owe you anything. You've helped us out, yeah, but that's only because you decided to fuck with us first. You were bored, and you wanted to find something to do. You don't give a damn about me." A stunned Robert let him slip past.

Rose had just locked the front doors behind her when Jack appeared on the steps next to her. "Jack!" she said, smiling to mask her surprise. "Don't you have to—" He cut her off with a kiss. "Want to leave tonight?"


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I'm sorry this has taken so long! I've been painfully busy. Please review if you're still reading. **

_Three Weeks Later_

Rose lay awake staring at the ceiling. Light streamed through the window next to the bed, completely unnoticed. The sun had been up for two hours, and she hadn't moved once in that time. Jack's kiss was still fresh on her lips. She sighed and rolled over, tucking her hands under head. It was summer but the blankets were not only pulled up to her chin but also tucked around her, creating a kind of cocoon. Jack had done it before slipping out for the day. She let out a loud sigh. "He's supposed to be here," she said. "I'm not supposed to sleep alone." She frowned. "Don't do that," she said harshly. "You have him. Be grateful for what you have."

But was that enough? Was it really fair to say having him for a few hours each night was enough? _You could not have him at all. Would you prefer that? Would you prefer he had died? _She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the image of Jack sinking into the black water. "No. I wouldn't prefer that."

_Then stop whining. _

Rose tossed and turned, but no matter what she did she couldn't get to sleep. Finally, sweating and frustrated, she threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. Her curls stuck to the back of her neck. For a brief, terrifying moment she couldn't breathe. Her dress was unbearably tight; muslin had never been so thick before. She clawed at the tiny buttons until she was free. She tossed it aside with a relieved sigh. Not caring who saw her she marched over to the window in nothing but her camisole and bloomers and opened it. A blast of hot air greeted her. She didn't care. It was almost cool after the stagnant heat of the room.

"It isn't so bad," she said. "At least we're on our own now." She ran a hand over the bump that occupied the space where her flat belly once was. "Almost on our own," she added, smiling.

….

Jack darted through the crowd so quickly and deftly he was almost invisible, and to a few people he was. He kept his hands in his pockets and his head down. No need to draw attention to himself. In fact, he would have been happy if no-one ever noticed either he or Rose—especially Rose. They were in a town just outside Philadelphia, and although there was no reason for anyone who knew her to be there, he couldn't help but worry she would be spotted and word of her survival get back to Cal and Ruth. Jack set his jaw, his blue eyes narrowing. Of course, if Cal did come not being able to protect Rose wouldn't be problem. It was how well he could—and would—protect her that would be the problem.

The door opened and closed behind him without a sound. The other residents of the boarding house were all gathered around the dinner table, but not one of them so much as looked up as he passed through the room and went up the stairs.

He found Rose asleep, slumped over on the bed as though she had fallen asleep before she knew what happened. She didn't move when he lay down next to her. Gently, he slid his arm under her and pulled her into an embrace. Smiling, she rolled over to face him. "You're back," she murmured, still asleep. He kissed her forehead. "I'm back," he whispered. Her eyes remained closed. "Missed you…" He lightly brushed his lips across hers. "Missed you too." Satisfied, she snuggled up to him, pressing her face into his chest.

…..

"You were going to let me sleep the whole night away," Rose said, a hint of accusation in her voice. "What a waste that would have been." Jack shook his head. "Not for me," he said. "I would've gotten to watch you sleep." She rolled her eyes but her mouth curled up at the corners. "You did get to watch me sleep."

"Yeah, but I coulda watched you all night." He leaned forward. Now their mouths were just inches apart. His gaze flicked down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. A coy grin spread across his face. Her brow knit. "Jack, what are you—" She was cut off by his lips crashing into hers. Not to be outdone, she grabbed his wrists when he tried to put his arms around her. "No, no, no, Mr. Dawson," she said, pulling away from the kiss. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "That isn't how you go about this at all."

He moved to try to kiss her again, but she leaned back. She shook her head. He didn't resist when she flattened his hands on either side of her. She brought her face up to his; their lips just barely touched when she spoke. "There's something to be said for seduction." Her tone was light and teasing. A new light came into his eyes. "Want me to seduce you, huh?"

Rose nodded slowly. "That's what I want." Her heart began to beat faster as he brought his hand up to her breast. She knew it was just in her head, but at that moment it looked as though her dress were about to rip from the strain caused by her breathing. "You know," he said softly, "I bet I could seduce you without ever putting a hand on you."

"Could not," she challenged.

He grinned. "If that's the way you want it." He moved as if to kiss her but stopped before his lips touched hers. She watched, puzzled and intrigued, as he moved his lips across her cheek and down her throat, all without ever actually touching her skin. His face was pure concentration. Every ounce of his energy was focused on her. She squirmed as he passed a hand over her breast, pausing, his thumb extended over what was rapidly becoming a very hard nipple. "Still don't believe me?" he asked.

"No," she lied.

"Alright." He slowly moved his hand lower. Her breath caught in her throat. Desire spread through her. She shifted her up so his hand would move lower faster. "No, no, no," he chided. "That's not the way to do this."

….

Rose's legs trembled. She drew in a shuddering breath. "How did you do that?" Jack grinned and kissed her. "Artist's secret."

"That had nothing to do with art."

"You think seduction isn't an art?"

She looped an arm around his neck and pulled him down. "Somehow you find a way to make everything an art," she said with a laugh. She tilted her head up and kissed him. He let himself sink down onto her. Sighing, he deepened the kiss. She was so soft, so warm. The smell of her was everywhere. "Rose," he whispered. "Dear One…"

"It's almost time for the sun to come up," Jack said. Rose tightened her grip on him. "No, it isn't," she said. "You don't have to go yet." He placed a soft kiss on her neck. "I do. I'm sorry. I don't wanna go."

"Don't then."

"Rose—"

"Sleep here." She ran her fingers through his hair. "Sleep here," she repeated. "With me. Use the crate. That's just as safe as sleeping in the ground." Jack hesitated. He didn't want to tell her the reason he had been sleeping outside was because when he first woke up he was hungry. Except for the times he drank from her they didn't talk about what he had to do to survive. Without even realizing it they had made a silent agreement not to. Rose had begun looking at it as something they shared between them, a new level to their love making. It was a somewhat flawed view, but it provided more comfort than the others. Jack tried to do the same thing as much as he could. "Alright," he said finally. "I'll sleep here with you."

…

Rose glanced anxiously at the sky. The sun seemed to be sinking lower by the second. A few minutes more and Jack would be waking up. She shifted her armful of food. _I should have waited_, she thought. _What would another hour have been? _The line ahead of her crept forward another inch. She tapped her foot impatiently. "Oh, hurry up," she muttered. She wasn't worried about Jack waking up and finding her gone. He wouldn't be angry, and unless he sensed there was a need he wouldn't be worried. It was the time they would lose that upset her.

She hurried through the streets, resisting the urge to break into a run. The last trace of the sun was fading on the horizon, but the streetlights gave the world a warm glow—except for on their street, that is. Rose was just rounding the corner that led to the boarding house's back entrance when she felt a pair of eyes on her. _It's nothing_. She forced herself to look straight ahead and keep walking. She made it another two steps before a large hand clamped down on her shoulder.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack was out of the crate and across the room before he remembered that he wasn't wearing a shirt or even pants. He stopped mid-step. "Where am I going?" He turned around slowly; something didn't feel right. His clothes were neatly folded and laid out on the edge of the bed. A warm breeze blew in from the open window. An empty water glass sat on the sill. Except for the forgotten glass the room was spotless.

And empty.

"Rose."

At that moment she was struggling to free herself from the grip of an unseen attacker. One of his arms was looped around her neck. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh on her upper back. His other hand held a hunk of her hair. She twisted and turned trying desperately to break his grip, but he didn't even seem to notice her efforts. Her heart raced. _Have to get free—can't—must—Jack!—Asleep—Stupid—Shouldn't have left—Hurts—Jack!_

Walking had never seemed so much like flying. Or was he running? Jack wasn't sure. It didn't feel like he was making any effort at all, and yet he was already at the bottom of the back stairs and opening the back door. The sound of Rose's muffled cries filled his ears. If possible, he began to move faster. He didn't bother opening the gate; jumping across it was easier. Now he could see her. She was bent forward, her face covered on one side by her curls. Her feet were placed far apart; her heels were digging into the ground. The man holding her saw him. For a split second their eyes met.

And then Jack was on him.

Rose screamed. Jack's enraged growls filled the air. Before she knew what was happening she was stumbling forward, thrown off balance by the sudden release of her attacker's grip. She spun around in time to see Jack throw his head back, his face contorted with rage and lust, fangs glinting in the moonlight. She took a step back. Her attacker shrieked in horror as Jack plunged his fangs into his throat. Jack drank hungrily. Blood covered the cuffs of his white shirt. His collar looked as though it had been stained by a dozen women's lipstick. It seemed to Rose that hours passed before Jack finally released the limp body. He stared down at it. A shadow crossed his face, and he cocked his head to one side, as if hearing the answer to a question. Slowly he wiped his mouth on a dry patch of sleeve before turning to look at her.

"You're shaking," he said, moving toward her. She almost tripped over her own feet trying to walk backwards. "Rose!" His hands were on her shoulders steadying her. Despite the warmth of the night her skin was cold. Her face was pale; even her lips were drained of color. His hands moved over her face in a gentle caress. "Rose," he said again, softly this time. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Jack."

"You alright?" he asked. She nodded. He moved to pull her closer, but the blood on his shirt stopped him. He settled for leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. "He didn't hurt you?"

"Not—not very much." He knew she was lying even without looking at the dark bruise already forming around her throat. "How did you know I was out here?" she asked hoping her voice sounded calmer to him than it did to her. "I just knew," he said. He gently cupped her cheek. "I woke up knowing."

Rose's knees buckled when they started walking to the house. Without a word Jack swung her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I won't drop ya," he said, placing a kiss on her hair.

"I know."

They didn't talk while he carried her upstairs, when he sat her down on the bed, or when he kissed her before going back out the door. There weren't enough words for what he wanted to say and too many for what she couldn't say. She stared at the door until she heard his footsteps on the stairs. He was walking like a human again.

She didn't move when he knelt down in front of her and pressed his cheek against her knees. His arms encircled her legs. "I'm sorry," he said. "Rose, I'm so sorry." He kissed her leg through her dress. "I should've woken up sooner."

"How?"

"What?"

"How could you have?" She let out a shuddering breath. "You can't be awake during the day. And even if you could be the sun would kill you." There it was. Just one of the things she had avoided letting herself think about. He raised his head. His eyes had never been so blue. She ran a hand through his hair; the blonde locks were like cool silk against her skin. He leaned toward her with a sigh. "I'm sorry," he said again, letting his head fall into her open hand. "I should be able to protect you."

"You can. You did." A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's alright," he said, sitting down next to her. He pulled her into a hug. She sank gratefully against him. "I don't want to see it," she whispered. He rubbed her back. "You shouldn'tve seen it. I should've waited until you were gone."

"To kill him?" she said. Jack winced. "Is that how you always do it?" she asked. "You kill them like that?"

"No!" he cried. "I don't kill any of them. I don't have to. I only take what I need. I don't even hurt them."

"You killed him." She knew it sounded like an accusation, but she couldn't stop herself. "Yeah. I killed him," he said flatly. "And I'd do it again." The knot in her stomach worsened. She pressed her ear against his chest, searching for a heartbeat she knew wasn't there. "I would've done it before," he went on. "I haven't changed. There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. It's just easier to protect you now." He cradled her face in his hand. "My dear one." His thumb caressed her cheek. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes. His hands hadn't felt so warm since before the sinking. If she just pretended he had a heartbeat….

"I love you," he said softly. He brushed his lips across hers. His other arm dropped from her shoulders to her waist. His hand rested lightly on the bump in the middle of her belly. "I won't let anyone hurt you." The conviction in his voice made her shiver. "I believe you," she said. _And that's what scares me._

Later, when she woke up sweat drenched from a nightmare filled with blood he would be gone. There would be an empty space between her body and the edge of the bed. The blankets would be wrapped around her and tucked under on each side. There would be a drawing of them, a future them with a child under a starry sky, on the pillow next to her head. She would cry when she saw it, but whether from joy or sorrow she wouldn't know.


	9. Chapter 9

_One Week Later_

Cal drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. He silenced the waiter at his elbow with an irritated grunt and shoved his empty glass into the young man's hands. He didn't acknowledge when a full glass of amber liquid was set down a moment later. He glanced at the clock above the bar. "Should have been here half an hour ago," he muttered. "Where the hell is he?" He let his gaze roam around the bar. It was a spacious room with tables on one end and a bar running the length of the other. There were only a handful of other customers, including two men at the bar talking in what they thought were hushed tones. Cal's nose wrinkled at their patched pants and coal dust stained shirts. What was he doing in a place like this? With people like that? _I'm paying him. I didn't have to agree to meet him in an aboveground sewer. _Except that he did. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see them together, and he would be damned if he let a piece of human filth like Varens into his house. There really was no predicting what he might do. Of course, what else could he expect from a man like Varens?

"He'll get the job done" was the recommendation Cal had been given. "You want her alive, right?"

"Of course I do. What good is she to me dead?"

"Just asking." Smith, his new valet, darted his eyes around the room. "Killing them is more his business." Cal kept his face blank. "Not this one," he said. "He can do whatever he likes with other women, but he isn't to touch this one more than is absolutely necessary. Make sure he understands that."

"I will," Smith promised.

"See that you do. It's bad enough that rat's been touching her," he added in a murmur.

And now here it was, over a month later, and as far as he could tell Varens had gone back on their deal. He had called a week ago and said he found her. "Give me a little time to get her," he said.

"How much time?" Impatience crept into Cal's voice. "She's a woman. It cannot be that difficult."

"She's got a man with her. He could make it difficult."

"See that he doesn't. I'll give you a week. That's all. Have her by then."

"I will." He would do more than that. Snatching Rose would take an hour, maybe. She was small, delicate, one good hit would knock her out for awhile. Varens had smiled at the thought of having Rose to himself for a week. It wasn't ideal, but there were plenty of things he could do in that time.

Cal drained his glass. The liquor was as bad as the décor. He put a twenty on the table and moved to stand up. "I'm telling you!" one of the men at the bar said. "That's what happened! They found his body in the gutter—ripped apart, just sliced to bits. Looked like an animal got ahold of him." Cal paused, his interest piqued. He turned toward the men. Their backs were to him. One was shorter than the other; he had greasy brown hair. His companion was skinny with short grey hair. He spoke next. "I suppose your cousin told you this?" He shook his head. "Frankie, I keep tellin ya not to listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talkin about."

"He's a cop," the shorter man said. "He knows about this. He said this was the guy they been lookin for—you know, the one who was—with the women…"

"And how would they know that? They got a psychic medium on their police force? Someone to look into a crystal ball and let 'em know who all the murderers are? And what makes your cousin so sure the same guy killed all them women?"

"Because he did 'em all the same, that's why. It had to be the same guy. He told me this guy had been seen following some girl about a week ago. Said he was asking at the library about this redheaded girl—don't know who she is though."

Cal stood up slowly and made his way to the door without looking at anyone. Varens was dead. He didn't know how or why, and he didn't care. As incompetent as the police in this pitiful excuse for a town were he was sure one of them would see the significance of the dead man being blamed for a series of murders and that same man asking about Rose. Of course, that cop wouldn't know she was Rose. He would just know she was interesting, relevant to the case; if he was a good cop, the kind of good cop Cal hated most, he would know there was a chance Varens had been asking about her for a reason.

Cal hurried through the dark streets. _What were you thinking? Hiring a lunatic like that to get Rose? Lucky he didn't kill her. _He stopped at a corner to wait for the light to change. His shoulders drooped; he jammed his hands in his pockets and kept his head down. He walked forward as soon as the light changed. He didn't look up when a body smacked into him. "Excuse me," a soft feminine voice said. He grunted. "I'm sorry," the voice said. He caught a whiff of lavender. Without thinking he turned and looked over his shoulder. Rose walked quickly, her arms wrapped around her middle. Her curls hung around her face. Cal stopped in his tracks. "I'll be damned."

_One Week Earlier_

"Talk to me?" Jack said. He touched her hand. "Please?" Rose smiled weakly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had gotten quiet." He took her hand in his. "It's alright. We don't hafta talk." He lightly moved his thumb across her knuckles. She looked down at their hands; a curtain of red curls covered her face. He tucked a few behind her ear with his free hand. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said. "I can't seem to focus."

"It's alright," he said softly. "Does anything hurt?" She shook her head. "No. I'm fine." _I see blood every time I close my eyes. _"Don't worry." _I see you too. _Jack squeezed her hand. "You can tell me if—if there's something—" His throat tightened. _If it's me. _"I would tell you," she lied. His blue eyes looked right through her—or was that just in her head? No-one could see into another person's soul. Not even Jack. "Could you—Jack, would you hold me?" Her voice came out quieter than she had intended. Instead of a request it was a plea. But wasn't she pleading with him—a silent plea? _Still be Jack. _"C'mere," he said, breaking into a smile. His arms looped around her. She sank against him, her head on his chest, and let him lower them onto the bed.

They barely talked over the next few days. Rose wanted to, but she couldn't. When she opened her mouth nothing came out. The words stuck to her throat, eventually leaving a lump so big she could barely breathe. Sometimes, during the day, she lay awake and tried to talk to herself. It was easier then, but only certain words would come out. Words that had nothing to do with what she needed to say.

_He loves me. I know he does. He wouldn't hurt me. _

"Things change sometimes. You never what life will throw at you. It's impossible to predict."

_Exactly. It's impossible to predict what he might do. _

"But some things are easier to predict than others. Some people, you can know them well enough that you don't have to worry about what they'll do next. You can trust them." She sighed. The voice remained silent. "You really can trust some people," she said, running a hand over the swell of her belly.

Jack didn't try to talk. He let his hands speak for him. Kneading the tension from her shoulders, holding her hand and helping her down the narrow front stairs, brushing her hair and sometimes replacing the brush with his fingers, gently massaging her scalp until it tingled and the flicker of a headache in her eyes was gone; those were his words. Holding her close was how he told her to trust him.

But it wasn't enough, and he knew it. The doubt in her eyes faded but never disappeared completely. Deep down there was a part of her that wasn't sure, a tiny part that couldn't forget what he had done. He didn't blame her. He didn't like it—hated it, actually—but he didn't blame her. It had been for her. He killed the man to protect her. _That's worse though, isn't it? She doesn't blame me. She blames herself. _

Jack smiled when she caught his eye. Unexpected pleasure washed over her; she returned the smile. "Haven't seen that in a few days," he said. She pressed his hand with hers. "I'm sorry." He flipped her hand over so their palms touched. "Don't be," he said.

"Jack, will you do something for me?"

"Anything." _She knows that. Isn't it the problem? _

"Would you draw for me? Please?"

"Yeah." His eyes lit up. "Yeah, Rose Petal I'll draw for you."

_The Present_

Without giving it a second thought Cal turned and began following her. It was easy; she didn't seem to notice anything. She kept her head down and her eyes on her feet. She moved briskly and gracefully through the small crowd. Wherever she was going she knew how to get there.

_She's alone. It's past eleven at night, and she's walking through the streets alone. Where's the rat? _Cal was shocked. He hadn't thought Jack would actually leave her. It wasn't just a dalliance for him; that had been all too clear. So where was he?


	10. Chapter 10

The wind sent a chill through Rose. Hugging herself tighter she jammed her hands in the pockets of her coat. They were engulfed by the dark green fabric. The coat was at least two sizes too big, and it was cut for a man. It was Jack's coat. She didn't know where he had gotten it. She had shivered one night during a walk. He put his arm around her, but it was colder than the breeze. The next evening he brought her the coat.

"What's this?" she had said holding the garment gingerly. It was soft between her fingers. "You brought me a coat?" Surprise filled her voice. "Why would you do that?" He took her hands. "You were cold last night," he said. "Now you won't be." She smiled. "I love you, Jack." He kissed her knuckles. "I love you too."

She shook the memory away. No sense in thinking about something she didn't have. No sense in wanting something she didn't have. But that didn't stop her from pulling her collar up and pressing the fabric to her nose. She breathed deeply, searching for a trace of Jack's scent.

Cal followed close behind her, still unnoticed. He moved lightly across the pavement; pursuit had given him a new agility. The crowd had thinned out. The few people they passed walked quickly and stared straight ahead. A full moon shone brightly in the sky circled by a few wispy clouds. The air was clear and cool—almost wet.

Jack moved silently behind him.

_One Week Earlier_

Jack drew with slow, painstaking strokes. He stared intently at the image taking shape under his hands. The piece of charcoal was a part of his hand, the drawing an extension of himself. Rose forced herself to breathe evenly as his gaze flicked across her. "Relax," he said with a smile. "You're not very relaxed," she teased. "In fact, you look quite tense."

"It's my subject."

"Oh really?"

"Looking at her makes me tense." Something in the way he said the word made her shiver. "I can't imagine that's her intention," she said lightly. "I'm sure she doesn't want anything like that at all." He slowly moved closer to her. "What does she want?" he said keeping his eyes on hers. Rose was all too aware of the movement of her breasts when she breathed. Jack's hand was just about to touch her arm. Just a little further—now there it was—now he was touching her, his fingertips just barely grazing her wrist. "She wants to see the artist at work," Rose said taking care to keep her voice steady. His fingers moved ever so slowly up her arm. "I think that can be arranged," he said. "I was already watching you," she pointed out. He chuckled. "Wanna see me draw another way?"

"What other way is there?"

He took out a fresh sheet of paper. "I didn't realize I could do at first." An awestruck Rose watched as a drawing materialized as if by magic. His hands moved so quickly she couldn't even see them. "How did you do that?" she asked breathlessly. He smiled proudly. "You know how I can move so fast now? Well, that applies to drawing too." He flipped the paper over. "It's like…it's like all I hafta do is think about it now and it's drawn." And suddenly the paper was covered by a portrait of her. "Jack, that's amazing," she said.

"I have an amazing subject."

_Present Day_

Rose's smile faded. _Stop thinking about him. _"He isn't here. And whose fault is that?" A tear slid down her cheek. "No," she hissed. "You don't get to cry." She roughly wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her coat. Jack's face appeared before her. His blue eyes filled with sorrow. His voice rang in her ears. "I won't leave you."

She didn't answer. "Rose, look at me," he said, taking her face in his hands. "I'm not leaving you alone." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. One hand dropped down to her belly. He felt the tiniest of movements. He couldn't help but smile. She put her hand over his. "What if it's better for you to leave me, Jack? Better for all of us?"

Now she was sobbing, the memories coming unbidden and unstoppable.

"How can that be better?" Jack asked. "How could that ever be better! Rose—" He cut himself off. "I'm sorry," he said calmly. "I'm not an idiot. I know this isn't perfect. I know I scared you. You don't have to say it. I can see it. But that doesn't mean—" A lump welled up in his throat. "Rose, that doesn't mean we aren't supposed to be together." He lightly kissed her cheek. "I won't leave you. You can't think that's the answer."

But that was the answer. Wasn't it? They couldn't be happy together. They could try, and they had tried, but it was doomed to failure. How could they ever hope to raise a child together? How would they explain why Jack could never be seen during the day? Why he didn't age but she did? It wouldn't work; that was all there was to it. Just letting herself think the words made Rose nauseous.

She was lost in the memory, but Cal was alert. He stopped a few feet behind her. She was hunched against the corner of a dark building, a faraway look clouding her eyes. The empty street was silent. Save for the moon there was only one dim light. He moved quickly without giving himself time to think. His hand was just about to close around Rose's arm when Jack's hand closed around his throat. He let out a strangled gasp. He clawed at Jack's hand but it was to no avail. Jack's grip was unshakeable.

Rose spun around. Her jaw dropped. "Jack!" she cried. He turned at the sound of her voice. His grip didn't loosen, but he was distracted enough to not notice Cal pull a knife from his pocket. "Jack, stop him!" she screamed. He turned. Struggling for breath, Cal raised the knife. Jack flung him backwards but the blade pierced his shoulder nonetheless. His face twisted in pain and anger. With a deep growl he lunged at Cal, fangs bared and eyes blazing.

Cal rolled into a ball and narrowly avoided getting his throat ripped out. He sprang to his feet, terrified. His breaths came in short gasps. He stumbled forward brandishing the knife wildly. Rose stood frozen in horror. Jack grabbed his arm. There was a sickening crack as the bone snapped. Cal let out a shriek. Jack reached for his throat, but he twisted ignoring the pain that shot through his broken arm. He tried vainly to focus his eyes. All he saw was red. He gave another twist and for one brief moment he was free. He tightened his grip on the knife and plunged it into the first body it found.


	11. Chapter 11

Rose gasped sharply; she froze, one hand held out to Jack. Her elbow crashed into Cal's jaw, but she didn't notice. Jack stared in horror as the crimson stain spread across her dress. Time stood still; he heard nothing save the sound of her ragged breathing. Cal, knife still in hand, turned to him. His dark eyes glittered. He held up his hand. Blood dripped from his palm; his fingers were stained already. Grimacing, he wiped it on his pants. Behind him Rose fell with a soft _thump_.

With a howl of rage Jack tackled him. His head smacked against the pavement. His eyes rolled back; his mouth fell open. He didn't have time to recover before Jack lifted him up and slammed him into the nearest wall. The world swam before his eyes. Faintly he heard Rose in the distance gasping and murmuring. He moved to turn his head, but Jack's hand stopped him. Rage-filled blue eyes were all he could see.

Jack felt disconnected from his body. He saw his fingers curl around Cal's neck, saw him squeeze until it looked as though his head would pop off his shoulders, saw his lips turn blue at the edges, but he didn't feel himself do any of it. Slowly he loosened his grip, just to see what would happen. Cal barely had a chance to gasp for breath before Jack's hand closed around his throat again. Desperately he struggled to raise the hand with the knife. The next thing he heard was a growl from Jack followed by the sickening snap of his wrist breaking. He was sure it hurt, but somehow the pain didn't reach him. His head felt light, as if it weren't attached to his body anymore.

Rose, on the other hand, felt nothing but pain. She lay curled up on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around her middle trying in vain to stop the bleeding. The wound wasn't long, but it was deep. Cal hadn't just plunged the knife into her; he had twisted it. She struggled for breath. Black spots danced before her eyes. _I'm dying. _She heard Jack howl with rage, but it sounded so far away. It meant nothing when he ripped out Cal's throat. She may as well have been watching a play. Her eyes closed after that.

"Rose!" Gently Jack lifted her into his lap. His hands moved over her face feverishly; he didn't notice the streaks of blood left on her skin. She didn't move. "Rose!" Her dress was soaked with blood. Her skin was cold. "No!" It was more growl than word. He lifted her head. "No," he said again, softly this time. He kissed her lips. They were cold, but she was still breathing. Barely. His mind raced, but his body seemed to be moving in slow motion. He knew what he was going to do even before the decision became words in his head. He brushed her curls back away from her neck. He wanted to apologize or explain, but there was no time. He closed his eyes and kissed her neck. For a brief moment the scent of her skin overpowered the thick odor of blood.

And then he bit her.

…

The first thing Rose was aware of was Jack's arms around her. He held her tightly; one hand was twisted in her curls. Her head lay on his chest. For a moment she just lay there enjoying his embrace. But then it all came rushing back. Panicked, she tried to sit up only to find that they were in a box. "What?" Tentatively she reached up and touched the lid. "Why am I—why would he bring me in—" Jack stirred beneath her. For the first time she noticed the way his eyes glowed in the dark. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hello, Jack."

He grinned. He reached up and pushed off the lid. His arm dropped back to her waist and curled around her. She let him pull her back down so she was lying on him. "What happened?" she asked. His eyes darkened. His hand moved over her now flat belly. She looked down, confused. "Why—No. Of course," she said flatly. Her hand hovered over his. His other arm curled around her. "You're trembling," he said in her ear. "I'll be alright," she said blinking away tears. His arms tightened around her. "You can cry," he said. "I did."

"You did?"

"Yeah." He kissed her temple. "Until I feel asleep."

"Jack…I'm not…" Her voice broke. "I'm not…"

"You are. I had to. There wasn't another way." He lifted her head so she was looking down into his eyes. "Rose Petal, you were dying. Another minute and you would've."

"You couldn't save the baby, could you? No, that's an absurd question. Of course you couldn't."

"I would've." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I would've if I could've, but there was just no way. You bled so much." He closed his eyes to block out the memory. "Oh, Rose." He pressed her body to his with all the strength he had; breaking her wasn't a concern anymore. He knew he couldn't. "Oh my Rose."

They lay in silence as the moon climbed in the sky. Rose's brain teemed with questions, but she couldn't bring herself to ask any of them. What was the point? What was done was done. Going back was impossible. She tried to find her own heartbeat, but it was gone. She knew it would be, but somehow feeling it not there made it all more real. _I'm dead. Except I'm not. I didn't die. He didn't let me die. But I'm not human anymore. I'm something else entirely. _And then the most chilling thought of all: _I drink blood too now. _

Jack's voice broke the silence. "I can feel you thinking."

"Is it that heavy?"

"I think it's just cause it's you."

"You killed him."

He just nodded. "I killed him."

"Because he hurt me."

"Because he hurt you. And he killed our child."

"Not because you're a vampire." It was the first time she had ever said it. The word didn't seem so menacing anymore. "Right," he said. "Because you love me," she said. He nodded again. He tilted his head up and kissed her. "Because I love you more than there are words for, My Dear One."


	12. Chapter 12

Rose had often wondered how Jack felt now; what it was like to walk around without a beating heart. She wondered if his lightning fast movements were lightning fast to him. Did he feel his own strength? Or had it all become normal once the shock wore off? During the long afternoons when she waited for him to wake up she wondered what it felt like to be different—to be a vampire, a word she could barely bring herself to say even after her own transformation—and now she knew. It felt amazing.

Her feet didn't touch the ground. They didn't have to. She wasn't running; she was flying. The cool night air whipped her hair back. It trailed out behind her like a curly mane. A grin spread across her face. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. Jack slipped his hand into hers. "Having fun?" he asked. She just nodded, her smile growing wider. He returned the grin. "Good." The trees seemed to part before them. Bushes and roots sank into the ground rather than trip them. Stars dotted the blue black sky.

"That was wonderful," Rose said when they stopped in a clearing. "That was unlike anything I've ever…" She shook her head, at a loss for words. She threw her head back and laughed. "I've never felt so alive!" Arms spread she danced in circles loving the way the cool breeze felt against her bare skin. Jack watched for a moment before taking her hand and joining the dance. Without missing a beat she wrapped an arm around his neck. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Their fingers laced together. They moved as one across the clearing, dancing a cross between an Irish jig and a waltz.

"Dancing without music?" Rose clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "What would people say?" Jack bent down so his forehead pressed against hers. "I dunno," he said. "I think they'd be jealous though."

"So do I."

Rose shivered as his hand moved across his back. He traced stars on her shoulder blades. "Have I ever told you how soft your skin is?" he said kissing her cheek. She shook her head. His lips moved to her chin. He ran his fingers over her hand. She tilted her head up, catching his lips with hers. He pressed her to him. "I thought you were going to tell me something?" she teased. He answered with a groan and moved to kiss her again. "Oh no, no, no," she said slipping out of his grip. "I believe I was promised information."

His eyes shone like two blue jewels. A slight grin played about his lips. Rose let her eyes wander up his body—over his strong legs, smooth muscles, lingering for a moment on his hands before meeting his eyes. If she still needed to breathe the look she saw there would have made her forget to. Warmth washed over her. The tingling in the pit of her stomach worsened and spread. Without thinking she pressed her legs together, all too aware of Jack's eyes on her. The next thing either of them knew they were kissing feverishly. Rose broke the kiss long enough to drop to the ground, pulling him down with her.

It was as if they were one person. Their movements corresponded perfectly. They seemed to be each anticipating what the other was about to do. Their murmurings were nonsense; words that had to be said because it seemed necessary to say them, because relying on touch alone left open a door to risk. And at that moment risk was something they had had enough of. The grass was thick and soft. They rolled over it easily, somehow avoiding twigs and pebbles. Rose tightened her arms around Jack. She just couldn't seem to hold him close enough. Her palms flattened against his back. His hands found her hips. "Slower," he whispered.

"It's almost dawn," Rose said lazily. Jack's hand curled around her shoulder. "Can't stay here much longer," he said. She pressed her face into his chest and forced herself to breathe. It already felt unnatural, but his scent was worth it. "I wish we could sleep outside," she said. "Lie in the grass." He ran his fingers through her curls. "We could sleep in the dirt."

Rose raised her head, intrigued. "Underground?" He nodded. "You mean we would dig a hole and sleep in it?"

"Uh-huh. Wouldn't take long."

Sleeping on the grass was one thing-after all, it had barely been an hour since they made love on the grass-but sleeping in a hole was quite another. She didn't know why. Both were equally dirty, but there was something less dirty about grass. Perhaps it was the smell or the way it felt on her skin; perhaps it was that she had actually touched grass before.

"We don't have to. We can still make it back."

"No...No, I want to," she found herself saying. She rolled off him. Her fingers sank easily into the dirt. She rubbed her fingertips together surprised at how soft it was. So this is what her mother had been so afraid of. This was the substance she had been warned against all her life. "I like it." She leaned over and kissed him. "Let's sleep here."

…

"And how did you enjoy your first time sleeping outside?" Jack swung their clasped hands as they walked. "Was it everything you expected it to be?" Rose shook her head. "No. It wasn't at all what I expected it to be." He tilted his head slightly to the side, a puzzled look forming on his face. "It was better," she said with a smile. Rolling his eyes he pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder and hugged his middle. She closed her eyes. Her feet kept moving; sight, it seemed, was no longer necessary. They moved at what seemed to her to be a leisurely pace, but it was only a matter of minutes before Jack kissed the top of her head and announced they were in town again.

"So soon?" She opened her eyes. They stood on a dimly lit corner about a block away from the town square. "We were moving at a vampire pace, weren't we?" He nodded. Giving her a squeeze he said, "It's weird at first. I had a lotta trouble figuring out how fast I was really going. It didn't seem like I was moving very fast at all—nothing more than a regular walking speed, but then I'd realize I'd gone two miles without even noticing."

"We could walk across the Earth."

"Yeah, I guess we could."

"Certainly gives a new meaning to 'head out for the horizon', doesn't it?" she said. He chuckled. "I did walk into the horizon sometimes."

"When there wasn't a tramp steamer around?" she teased. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "Say we can do it, Jack. What's to stop us now? Say we'll go." There was a quiet urgency in her voice, a familiar longing. "We'll go," he said. "Say when."


	13. Chapter 13

"I don't know if I can do this," Rose said tightening her grip on Jack's hand. "It's different now that I see them." Laughter and voices filled the street in front of her. People walked, some quickly and in groups, others walked alone slowly. Their skin shone. Rose didn't remember people ever being so bright. She could smell them; if she tried she could pick out each person's scent. "You can do it," he assured her. "I didn't think I could at first either." _I never wanted to. _

He heard Robert's voice again. "You have to do this, Jack. I can't keep feeding you forever. You'll die if you don't learn how."

"Oh, let him keep eating rats," Emily said scornfully. "He's too pure for human blood." Jack glared at her. "I won't kill anyone." She rolled her eyes. "I won't kill anyone," she mocked. "They're already dead. It's just a matter of time."

"Be quiet Emily," Robert snapped. He put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Listen, I know you don't want to do this, but sometimes we have to do things we don't like." Jack's disgust was obvious. "I won't do it."

"Do you know what will happen if you don't eat?" Robert asked, moving closer to him. "You'll get hungrier and hungrier. Imagine the worst hunger you've ever known and multiply that by a thousand. You'll feel as though your stomach is being torn to pieces. Your bones will ache. Your skin will tighten until you think it's going to break. You'll start to lose control of yourself after a while. All of that resolve, all of that strength you've got now will wither away. You'll bite the first person you see, and you won't just bite them. It won't be a quick nip. You'll drink every drop in their body." He paused for effect. "And do you think that person will be?"

Jack knocked his hand away. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Oh, come now, if you let him go a little insane he might be more fun," Emily said. "And I'm dying to taste a redhead." Her smile chilled Jack to his core. "Don't you even—" he began moving toward her. Robert stepped between them. "That is quite enough," he said impatiently.

"You can do it, Rose," Jack said. "It isn't hard." He kissed her temple. "I'll help you."

They blended into the crowd easily. They walked slowly, hands clasped. People stepped around them, but no-one looked at them. After a few blocks they spotted a man walking on his own. He looked a few years older than Jack. He was shorter but stockier. His dark hair was combed back. His hands were in his pockets. He stared straight ahead, oblivious to everything going on around him. "Him," Rose whispered. Jack nodded. "Alright."

They followed him silently. He walked quickly but didn't appear to be heading anywhere. It wasn't long before he turned down a dark street. It was empty. Jack squeezed Rose's hand. "Now," he said.

The man never knew what hit him. One moment he was about to take a step, and the next Rose was on him. He went down with a quiet _oomph._ He tried to shove her off, but her grip was unshakeable. She pinned him without trying. Jack stood off to the side, ready to jump in if needed. Rose brushed his hair away from his neck. His heart pounded in his chest. It sounded like a gong in her ears. His blood rushed through his veins; it made his skin vibrate under her hands. He was hot to the touch. Paralyzed by shock, he lay there waiting to see what would happen next. One side of his face pressed against the pavement, the eye on that side was closed.  
Through the other he saw Jack.

"Rose," Jack said. She looked up and met his eyes. "You can do it." She smiled weakly. "I can do it." Fear washed over the man. A woman had tackled him? A woman was holding him down? But how? "W—what are you going to do?" he stammered. Rose was taken aback by the sound of his voice. She glanced at Jack. "It's alright," he said. "You aren't gonna hurt 'im. Do it the way you did with me." She nodded. Slowly she lowered her head. Panic rose in the man's throat. He tried to speak but couldn't. He gasped for air.

And then Rose's fangs sank into his neck.

…..

They walked slowly. Jack glanced over at her; her expression was unreadable. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. He slipped his arm around her waist. "You alright?" She nodded. She let him pull her closer. "You sure?" Her head fell onto his chest. She hugged him. "I don't know," she said softly. "I don't know how I feel."

"You had to do it," he said. "And I'm sorry you had to do it." He stroked her hair. "If I coulda done it for you I would've." Her voice was small. "I know. I don't think I ever quite realized what you were doing when you left me….I didn't let it become real…."

"I didn't want you to. I didn't want it to ever touch you." _You shouldn'tve forced this on her then. _"But I couldn't let you die," he added, more to himself than to her. Instinctively he hugged her tighter. "I'm glad you didn't let me die," she said. She buried her face in his shirt front, breathing in his scent—that, at least, hadn't changed. "I didn't want to leave you."

They slept in the ground again. Rose laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes as he began pulling the soft dirt in over them. The sky was just beginning to lighten overhead. "I love you," she whispered sleepily. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, dear one."

That day Jack dreamed for the first time since becoming a vampire. He stood with Emily and Robert again, a pool of yellow light from a streetlamp surrounding them. Déjà vu washed over him "I don't know why you don't just change her if you're so attached," Emily said. "Then you could keep her forever."

"Perhaps," Robert said sounding bored. "He's seen what can happen if one turns one's plaything. He's seen how quickly the affection sours when there's no hope of ever getting rid of the other person." Emily scowled. "Say the word, and I'll go."

"Oh no," Robert said, a leer creeping into his smile. "I wouldn't want that." Emily grinned wickedly. "Then don't bring it up." Jack tried to ignore them, but the ache in his stomach made it impossible to focus his mind. "Still hungry?" Robert asked, turning to him. "Oh, how silly of me. Of course you are." He turned back to Emily. "Right. Let's go and have dinner, shall we?"

"Can we have redhead tonight?" Emily purred. Jack tensed. She laughed, half hoping he would spring at her. "No," Robert said. "But someone else might if he doesn't eat soon." Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. The ache was almost unbearable. Emily clucked her tongue. "Oh, do stop being so pious. It's depressing to watch something so pretty starve itself for no reason."

Jack stood there long after they were gone. He pressed his nails into his palms until he bled. "I won't," he muttered. "I can't do that." In the distance he heard the squeaking of a rat, but just the thought of drinking rat blood again made the ache in his stomach turn to nausea. The taste of it flooded his mouth. He doubled over, spitting. "Goddamn it!" he cried.

He didn't let himself think about what he did next. If he thought about it he wouldn't be able to do it. He hurried through the streets, brushing by people silently. He had to find the perfect person. It couldn't be a woman. It couldn't be anyone younger than him. Finally, his gaze fell on a man in his forties. He was a big man, well-built and muscular. He could have knocked human Jack down without even trying, but he couldn't fight against vampire Jack at all.

Jack woke up just as he was about to bite. Rose stirred. She murmured his name and began pushing against the dirt. They dug their way out in seconds. She stretched, smiling. "I feel wonderful," she said. She shook out her dress. "But I'm filthy," she added with a laugh. Jack reached out and took her hand. He laced his fingers through hers. "Let's go get a bath," he said. He stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Together," she said. He nodded. "Yes."

"And then what?"

He grinned. "What do you say to a walk?"

"A long walk?"

"A very long walk."


End file.
